child

Sarah.

Soft silky fringe,

Two plaits with ribbon tied in.

Chubby legs and dimpled hands,

Twinkling eyes and cheeky grin.

The little child of years ago.

 

When did it happen,

Where  did you go?

My laughing child-

When did you grow?

 

Another person sitting there,

An adult now instead.

It's not an adult that I see,

But a laughing child inside my head.

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tags:

Abandoned Child

Folder: 
Poetry

My brother died,

And in his place;

I was born;

But I was repelled.


 

My mother threw me from the table,

Abused me, both mind and body.

My father never present,

And if so, he ignored me.


They left each other fast,

'cause mother was a lesbian.

But my father needed a woman,

For his children and as a housewife.


 

The second was quite alright,

Even if she made me eat axis.

Only my sister I couldn't see,

That became off limits.


 

After years they had their divorce,

And then came the third, the most terrible.

My wicked stepmother,

The greatest dictator.


 

She tried to strangle my brother,

Then father did interfere.

She put me in the sanitarium,

With false motives, my fear.


 

Firstly in a crisis-centra,

'cause I run away from home.

Then in the sanitarium,

Where I for six months did roam.


 

In the sanitarium,

Provided with medication.

By which I lost my memory,

Crawling in the emptiness of chaos...

 

Regularly I suffered blackouts,

By which I saw nothing.

Not knowing what I did,

Much like sleep-walking;

And strange vistas occurred.


 

I wasn't suffering delirium,

Is what the doctors told.

So all this time,

I was in the asylum for no reason.


 

Then I had to go to boarding-school,

Where I developed something bad: anger.

I wanted to kill another, a female;

And Nyarlathotep, I am sorry;

Maybe I didn't wanted to commit this act,

But I had to from Satan...


 

What happened was unforeseen,

'cause my room was now aflame.

The building completely in axis,

The police came to arrest me.


 

A year and a half in prison,

Locked away in a cell, in Hell.

A year and a half terror,

The bondage of society.


 

When I got out, there was another project,

Named room-training.

I had to work in a factory,

But that didn't end well...


I started to mutilate myself,

Which I learned in the sanitarium.

They send me to the hospital,

To the psychiatric division.


Then again to the crisis-centra,

Which I didn't liked at all.

As if I had to start over,

This was too much overall...


 

Through the open door I escaped,

And from my last money;

I was buying a train-ticket,

Which brought me to Ramses.

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is my autobiography.

A Little Child

Folder: 
Poetry

Have to be a little child from my father,

Have to obey Cthulhu evermore.

And all bad things turned into dust,

By my evil and good Father.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Some thoughts.

View missnecrosica's Full Portfolio

Silent Praise

 

when you lay eyes upon a child,
whether he is pleasant, or cold
and unforgiving, do not only
see him as the child he is in the
present day, but as the future of
this country and the world.
he is a child but as well a teacher,
a parent, a suffragist creating
new paradigms, or preacher.

 

we speak loudest through those
things we reveal only with our
hearts and our eyes, so when

talking to children, scream
it at the top of your silence.

 

1:44 AM 5/5/2013

They call me "It"

They call me it,

I have no name,

I am only five,

My existence fuels their shame.

When company comes,

In the basement I hide.

My father must maintain,

His honor...his pride.

One day I couldn't stay,

I really had to pee,

This was also the day,

father started to beat me.

The company looked at me,

but their eyes held disdain,

Such a dirty "it" as I?

We belong in the rain.

Father smiled at their jokes,

said I'd been playing in mud.

Did they recognize his crazed look?

Or his eyes shot with blood?

Right then I feared father,

though i can not explain why,

I hid inside the bathroom,

suddenly afraid I would die.

I heard the company leave,

the closing of the door.

Heard Father shout "IT!",

But i cowered on the floor.

He burst in the bathroom ,

i gave a frightened shout.

He slapped me hard across the face,

when i tried to get out.

I curled in a ball,

while he beat me with his fists,

I was covered in blood,

from the force of his hits.

     It was an hour before,

     Mother could pull him away,

     I still remember their groaning noises,

     right until this very day.

 He calls me it,

I have no name,

I am only ten,

my existence fuels his game.

For the past three days,

I have sat and cried,

My mother killed herself,

she left me...died.

One day i heard a door slam,

Father was back from his drinking spree,

That was also the day,

father started raping me.

He walked into the room,

then he told me it was okay even dried my eyes,

I could barely speak,

nor hide my evident surprise.

The look in his eyes held no love,

yet no look of disgust,

Only a look of hatred,

and a demonic lust.

Leaning in close,

the corner of my mouth he kissed.

All my protests of how wrong this was,

he eagerly dismissed.

Then Father did things,

no man should do to a child of ten,

From that day I swore,

i would never be taken advantage of again

But my father,

He would still come every night.

And beat me...

until i couldn't put up much of a fight.

I can only bite my lip,

bide my time,

And hope one day,

that revenge will be mine.

 He calls me it,

I have no name.

I am only thirteen,

my existence remains the same.

My stomach aches,

it also grows,

Each day it continues,

it never slows.

I keep throwing up,

I cannot eat,

I have swollen ankles,

and aching feet.

One day a lady walked up,

and knocked on the door,

she told me i didn't

have to stay there anymore.

I opened the door and shouted,

tempted to give her a hug or a kiss maybe.

She gasped at the sight,

of my belly fattened with a baby.

I told her we must go,

before Father comes home,

because then he would never,

EVER leave me alone.

I had my baby,

but I sent her away.

to a family with a woman,

who would allow her to stay.

Before giving her up,

I made one request,

that she be treated like a child,

not an unwanted guest.

Before they called me it,

they gave me no name.

I'm 16 but was born at home,

and no longer a victim of father's game.

Now out of my fathers clutches,

I have gained identity,

You may not call me it.

But you may call me....Free 

View dazedbylife's Full Portfolio

Message in a bottle

Message in a bottle
To: Love bug
Alcona, innisfil, ontario
 
March 18th 2013
Today I release a message in a bottle, from the shores of Internet sea. Pass it along with hopes of finding its way to her. When she sees it she will know its for her. Will my message arrive? When? By who's hands will it be delivered? So much mystery. Thinking of you always....
 

I love her eyes

But it's no surprise 
My death was inevitable
 
They have changed
Her view is deranged
I'm no longer lovable
 
I could get her back
Rebuild qualities I lack
Even alone that would net a gain
 
If I sit tight
I could win this fight
We may be a family again
 
I want her to say
Before my dying day
That I am father of the year
 
I love our son
He is the one
Who will change the path I steer
 
What I thought wouldn't cease
It was just a tease
What I could have if I was a better man
 
I made my mistakes
Again and again for gods sake
Why can't I just stick to my plan
 
I tried my best
To be better than the rest
But always caused myself to bleed
 
Held on so tight
Tried to make it right
Wonder if ill ever succeed 
 
I want to tell her my thoughts
How I love and miss her lots
Hard to do what is best for me
 
We both made our choice
Despite all the noise
Of others opinions spoke in harmony
 
Chased her for years
Tried to take away her tears
I need to let her love me
 
Love me for me
Not what I make her believe
When I try so hard not to be
 
An actor who shows
Her what she already knows
Is inside my heart of stone
 
If I put on a play
Plan everything  I say
All fakers end up alone
 
Ill step back a minute
Watch her go fight and win it
I need to get her out of my head
 
Climb from the hole I have dug 
Free to fly my love bug
No longer tangled up in my web
 
Author's Notes/Comments: 

Maybe this peom will reach her in the distant future. She is on Facebook but I am not. I could just message it to her but I cant get over my butterflies. I am too nervous to send it to her directly. 

Love Child - A Lesson In Algebra

X is a baby,
X is a child,
X is a sinner,
X has gone wild,
X is a girl,
X is a boy,
X is a bastard,
X is a toy,
X is mischievious,
X is enlightened,
X is the way,
X can be frightened,
X is sarcastic,
X, a delight,
X is the darkness,
X is the light,
X is a woman,
X is a man,
X is resentful, forgiving,
...it can,
X is a mountain,
...a river,
...a sun,
X is the MANY,
X is the ONE,
X is insatiable,
...satisfied, complacent,
X is a variable,
...but can have no replacement,
X is intelligence,
X is deformed,
X can be funny, sad,
...forlorned,
X is quite perfect,
...but also has flaws,
X is a life,
X is a cause,
X is a tear that runs down all our cheeks,
X is resilient,
...and yet,
...x is weak,
X is my daughter,
X is my son,
X=Why?
...when the journey's begun,
X becomes kindness,
...when below is above,
...and all answers refer back to X,
X is LOVE.

Here & Gone

Folder: 
Parenthood

 

 

Here & Gone

 

 

 

Overfull days, ring with "Shh!", "Don't!" and "Stop it!",

 

Forgetting that (despite the noise) you can't live without this,

 

Teeth clenched and searching for homework, bag and shoes,

 

Chuck them in the car and drive towards more time you lose,

 

 

 

Shouts, kicks and pinches..three times on the naughty step,

 

A blissful nights reprieve, then you miss them when they've left,

 

The tempo of a thousand days, drowning out the love,

 

You feel it never changes, but blink and then it does,

 

 

 

 

 

Fighting for the best..guilty it's not always you,

 

Despite the many big mistakes, they seem to battle through,

 

Sharing horror stories with the other folk they know,

 

reconfirms they're little angels every other place they go,

 

 

 

Occasionally painful love tears through the daily grind,

 

Look at who they soon won't be, try to pin it in your mind

 

"It goes so fast!", "You'll miss so much!" everyone will say,

 

Memories missed, care that's shared, REALLY tough some days,

 

 

 

Unexpectedly they flourish, all too often unlike you,

 

forgetting that there's only so much time for you to do,

 

They say "It takes a village" so you've built one for your child,

 

Still the taunts of "part-time parent" tend to gnaw their way inside,

 

 

 

"Sod you!" is what you really really need to start to think,

 

Everybody's armour has that nasty little chink,

 

Oh miracle of miracles, not broken boys or girls,

 

but smart and kind and ready for a big judgemental world

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

 

 

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War Zone

Folder: 
Poetry

War Zone 

 

The people I met before,

Made war with us.

We had to stay in the loft,

Instead of the basement.

 

Everywhere were fire-arms,

And I had a child;

Whom I had to protect,

A tiny little baby.

 

Finally they found us,

A woman approached us;

And with a board in her hands,

She came kicking me.

Against my skull;

I fooled around.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A dream I had.